Present
I stared at Patrick in disbelief. Words weren't forming, not in a way where I could put them with others and string them into anything resembling a sentence. An elevator pitch, as in what Cy told Pat to give me, was by definition a succinct, persuasive summary, a sales tactic to be used when time was of the essence.
I didn't want short. I needed more.
Standing, I wrapped my arms around myself and silently walked to the windows. The spectacular view no longer registered. In the short time I'd been with Pat and Cy everything had seemed real. It was more than that—it felt real. I saw it. My life had been too much turmoil, too much emotion. Ever since Del Mar I'd been off kilter. I fought back the tears as I turned back to Patrick, still sitting silently on the couch, watching me w
